


The Devil Wears

by snivellus (queervulcan)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Asphyxiation, Blood, Daddy Kink, Evil Hermann, M/M, Multi, Possession, Rough Sex, Tentacles, Trans Newton Geiszler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queervulcan/pseuds/snivellus
Summary: at the end of the days





	The Devil Wears

**Author's Note:**

> fuck u Maria for putting this idea into my head and fuck me for cherishing you enough to go along with it 
> 
> for gods sake read the tags

“ _Come on Hermann, just one dinner, and then I won’t bother you again_.”

The message pings through, bothering Hermann where he was hunched at his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard. He swipes at the message with one finger, not even pausing in his work, mouth mumbling along with the numbers in his head.

A minute later, and another message pings.

“ _Oh, come on Hermann. I know you read that._ ”

Hermann grumbles, deciding to keep ignoring this idiot who couldn’t be bothered to message him for five years.

To no luck, Newton is just as annoying as he was the past years. His phone keeps pinging insistently, Godzilla theme that Hermann could never figure out how Newton installed playing loudly.

The last message brings a blessed silence, and when he looks at it it reads: _8 pm. Wear something nice. I’ll cook._

It’s not a request, but a demand, and Hermann inexplicably shivers.

* * *

He dreams, sometimes, of that one night. It comes in pulses, blue and the too sharp green in Newton’s eyes, blood curdling screams as he is forced and of Newton jerking around like a puppet cut from its string.

He usually wakes up panting, Alice looming over them both, the green of her tank casting sharp shadows on to the bed that has him nearly crawling for the nearest toilet.

* * *

“That’s quitters talk, Hermann.”

Hermann grunts, flipping Newton the bird over his shoulder.

Newton giggles, stepping into Herman’s personal space. He runs his hands under the soft wool of Hermann’s turtleneck, reveling in the warmth trapped under his shirt.

Hermann shivers, pressing his back more against Newton’s front, dropping the PONs onto the bed.

“Newton, please. I wish to see if this final design will be doable. Do you or do you not wish to help Alice see to her end goals?”

Hermann isn’t looking, but near daily Drifts has made it so that he knows Newton down to the very minuscule detail, so he knows Newton has glanced at Alice where she rests against the far wall, tucked away from prying eyes.

He doesn’t step away, not that he truly expected him to, and even wishes he wouldn’t, but he does unslip his hands from where they were teasing his nipple piercings.

“You’re right, doc. How silly of me.” There is a playful teasing in Newton’s tone, letting him know he is not truly offended.

Minutes pass with Newton cooing at Alice, and Hermann sitting on the bed, half watchful of them and half looking over the documents he knows are fail safe.

“What do you think we should call him?” 

Hermann hums, not truly caring one way or another.

“Oh, come on, Hermann. You must have some kind of named stored away in that big brain of yours.”

Hermann can feel two sets of eyes watching him- Newton and _them_. Even five years after- Hermann feels a sort of static build up in his head, a flash of white blinding him momentarily and when he remembers to blink he finds his face is cradled in Newton’s hands. Thumbs are already soothing the headache threatening to build, five years of practice.

“I was just going to name it Mega Kaiju.”

Newton wrinkles his nose, fingernail skimming close to his eye. “Seriously? How unoriginal, even for you.”

Hermann knocks his shin lightly, “As if you could come up with something better.”

Newton smiles, all wicked and sharp teeth. He falls onto his side on the bed, pulling Hermann down with him. Hermann goes willingly, but outwardly makes the appearance of being unhappy. Newton knows what is on his face isn’t true, partially because he can feel the fondness through their link, but also in the little signs he has learned to read over the years: the way Hermann tosses the iPad behind him, uncaring of where it lands, the way the tension seeps out of his frame, how he angles his legs to be curled more towards Newton.

Newton reciprocates, bringing his hand to lay flat against the small of Hermann’s back, pushing him towards his chest until one wrong move and Hermann could be brushing noses with Newton.

Newton smiles- the real Newton, Hermann can tell by the dimples that crinkle into his cheeks, before the joy is subdued and the Precursors take back control- and starts to press open mouthed kisses to Hermann’s jaw.

In between kisses, Hermann can hear faint humming, a sign Newton is thinking. He prods him gently with one finger brushing down his shoulder, and Newton pulls back from where he was biting at Hermann’s exposed neck.

“I was thinking- of the name for the new Kaiju- what about Big Daddy?”

Hermann’s nose wrinkles before he can help it, it being a conditioned response, but he is not truly repulsed. In fact, if he were not wrong, the swoop in his stomach may have _agreed_ with his idiot of a husband.

He glances at the tank behind them, at Alice seemingly bobbing in agreement. A slow smile makes it way across his face, and Hermann can feel the way Newton shivers under his hands.

“Sir?”

They have talked about this- years before, when the war was still going on- and it worked for them. Especially now.

Hermann brings Newton’s chin up, almost painfully too far back, so they are eye level but Hermann still has to look down his nose at him.

“Are you replacing me, my dearest Newt?”

Hermann brushes his pinky against Newton’s frantically bobbing throat. “No- No, sir.”

Hermann hums, curling his fingers tighter against Newton’s chin, “That’s excellent to hear. I would _hate_ to have competition.”

Newton gasps, very clearly affronted, “ _God_ , no. I could _never_ replace you. You’re _everything_ to me, Hermann! I swear!”

The praise and honest love leaves Hermann shaky, on uneven soil, but he is pleased nonetheless. Hermann doesn’t express his love with words, not the way Newton is easily able to, but with actions. Here, he does the same, bringing his head down to kiss Newton gently, just a small peck, belying the tension between them as his fingers slipping down his chin to toy at the simple collar snug around Newton’s throat.

“Just- Don’t you think it’s kind of hot?”

Hermann pauses where he was slipping the vest off Newton’s shoulders. “What?”

“Come on, man. Don’t make me spell it out.”

“No, my dearest Newton, I will make you do exactly that. What is it you wish for?”

Newton whines, bringing one hand to cover his face in embarrassment. Hermann gives him a moment to get over it, because Newton is the type of person to get over embarrassment as quickly as his mind is able to think. 

“God- I just- if this works out I keep imagining Big Daddy just- _jesus christ_ \- I keep imagining him dicking me down, alright? I keep imagining him trying to stuff himself into me, but I’m too small, but he keeps trying until it nearly tears me in half, and you’re just standing there, watching, all smug and commanding and saying in that stupid voice of yours, ‘Oh, Newton, do be careful how you spread your legs, do make sure to quiet down, be a good boy for your daddy’s now.’”

Hermann leans back to take in the red stained across Newton’s face and neck. He brushes a finger against his burning ears, and doesn’t take offense when Newton pouts and pulls away, hiding his face in the bed sheets.

Instead, Hermann chuckles and decides this final time he will indulge Newton, as it may be the last thing they do. He pulls him close, running his hands heavily over Newton’s love handles, and over his scars on his chest.

Newton shivers, and rolls onto his back, ready and willing.

* * *

“We won?”

Hermann sets his cane down, pulling the sword out in one practiced fluid motion. “I believe so.” 

“Holy _shit_.” Newton whispers, peeking over at Big Daddy. Down below, he can see the smoking ruins of the Jaegers Big Daddy managed to destroy, and the ant like bodies of their pilots.

If he got closer, he’s sure he would get sick at the sight of destruction, but up here he feels like God, untouchable and on a power high. He almost expects for a crown to manifest on top of his head.

“We did it. We did that!” Newton gasps, whirling around to face Hermann, who is wary and watchful.

“Yes, I believe so, but I will not take chances.”

Newton shrugs and goes back to watch as Big Daddy lumbers closer to them, slow and with no method. His heartbeat increases the closer he gets, until he has to take a step back lest he break his neck trying to look up.  

He had made Big Daddy to be the mirror image of Otachi- _including_ everything.

He opens his mouth now, giving Newton a flashback to Otachi and he hunkered down in a safe pod, and watches as the soft bioluminescent tentacles curl around his waist, around both his wrists, and tighten there.

Hermann looks up from where he was warily watching the staircase, takes one look at Newton’s face and huffs in fond exasperation.

“Go on, you great buffoon.”

Newton shivers in excitement, opening his mind to the Hive, and let’s Big Daddy tighten around him, sure he will be bruised and burned come death.

Newton steps on to the ledge, waiting to fall over and half expecting to not be caught- but he is, because Kaiju are sentient in their own manner and Newton helped design this boy.

He looks up from where he was caught, looking back to see Big Daddy wait for Hermann to catch up. He is increasingly impatient, if the mirror breathing between Newton and Big Daddy is any true indication.  

Newton can already tell how wet he is between his thighs, and just one prod of Big Daddy’s dick against his cheeks will get him hard.

He waits until Hermann is standing in front of him, and when he nods his hands are already flying to take off his belt, his pants and then his shoes off. He nearly trips in his eagerness, but a tut from Hermann slows him.

He unbuttons the first three buttons of his collar, proudly showing off the new studded o ring Hermann bought him. He doesn’t care that he’s about to have sex in the middle of a street, doesn’t care if their old bosses are watching, if strangers can hear.

They will all die soon, and Newton wishes to go like a rockstar.

Big Daddy’s slits unfold, revealing thickening tentacles that make Newton’s mouth and throat feel dry. He glances at Hermann, seeking reassurance, and feels himself grow wetter at how he is teasing his own body. Prim and proper Hermann, letting himself do one last irrational thing.  

One of Big Daddy’s dicks are nearly as big as he, in both size and width, and the idea of being forced to take even the tip has him moaning and spreading his legs eagerly.

He reaches one hand down, inserting a finger into himself, and brings it back to suck in his mouth the way he knows Hermann loves.

Hermann shudders both physically and mentally, and Newton _loves_ how Hermann has to physically, visibly restrain himself from leaning towards him. He loves the moments where Hermann loses control and he is brought to the same level as Newton. 

Hermann gestures with his one hand, pausing in his movements on himself, and Newton takes the cue.

He steps carefully over Big Daddy, careful not to bump or step on anything. The beautiful thing about Kaiju is that they have both sex organs, and this suits his bisexuality perfectly.

He steps up to Big Daddy, intimidated by the sheer size and knowledge that one wrong movement and he could he squashed like a bug, like he’s nothing, and that thought races from his brain to his cock and rips a guttural moan from him.

He mouths at Big Daddy’s stomach, pressing wet, open kisses to the scales under his tongue. He should be worried at the slight burn he can feel on his tongue, sliding down his throat and settling there.

He isn’t. He swipes his tongue at one of the slits, huffing as the Kaiju’s body shudders underneath his hands. It continues to uncurl, tentacle resting over his shoulder and curling down his back, thickening steadily until it is heavy like a boa. 

At the tips he can see the remnants of Otachi, her lotus like furls at the ends of her tongue. Newton desperately wants to feel that within him, stretching him wide.

With that image, he imagines Hermann in front of him, taking him from the front as Big Daddy takes him from behind. He has to clutch onto Big Daddy, knees going weak at the thought.

He can feel one of his tentacles pushing his legs apart, straining his legs muscles until they are burning and soon numb. Looking back, he can see Hermann making his way forward slowly, visibly excited by the thoughts drifting through their link.

Soon Hermann is at his back, helping to spread his legs as wide as they can go, sometimes teasing at his holes just to see Newton shudder.

If Newton leaned back against Hermann, he could comfortably stay there, propped up by both Hermann and Big Daddy.

Hermann leans forward, hands sliding around Big Daddy’s tentacle and entrapping Newton in a flimsy cage.

“Come now, is that the best you can do?” Hermann whispers into his ear, hands coming up to unbutton the rest of his shirt, hands slipping the vest off his shoulders.

Hermann touches the tattoos on his back, Otachi being the pride and joy that spans between his shoulder blades, her mouth and eyes hyper realistic. He can feel the Precursors nudging at him, trying to gain full control back, but he pushes them away in the manner he forced himself to learn, so that even a sliver of himself is able to come out.

He runs his hands heavily over the tattoos, more massage than caresses. It does its intended purpose of making Newton moan and loosen up, muscles less strained with less nerves in him.

Hermann leans further into Newt, hands sliding to his front to hold him, mouth coming to bite down at his neck and shoulders. Newton makes an embarrassingly loud pitched sound, which only escalates as Big Daddy’s lotus brushes against his clit. It soon latches on, and Newton cries out as it feels like a mouth on him.  

He continues making sounds that would make any porn star blush, little cries of Hermann and Daddy and _oh god_ coming through.

Hormones had made him dry up considerably, but he swears he’s never been this wet in his life, and there’s a tinge of anger and jealousy from Hermann as he sees that thought, an accompanying sharpness in his shoulder. Looking over in indignation, he can see blood slowly welling up, and he cranes back to yell at him for breaking skin.

He yells, alright, but it comes out more as a yowl than true anger, because Big Daddy is just as big as he imagined but just as filling.

He clings on to Hermann at the awkward angle, open mouthed and panting into his jaw. He lets himself be moved over Big Daddy, bobbing up and down as the tentacles reach places in him that on anyone else would have been _painful_.

“Oh, oh, god, _oh_.” Newton shudders, feeling the lotus in him unfurl and pull back, slowly, inch by excruciating inch. He can feel every ridge, every bump, every brush inside his over sensitive dick. 

It goes back into him, faster and more punishing, and Newton nearly wishes he could pass out. The pain is just as exquisite as the pleasure, but he realizes now he should have prepared better for this.

Hermann must have sensed some of the pain, because he helps him tilt back slightly, holding him in place with his cane across his chest, and kisses him like a man demanding water after a desert.

The kiss leaves his head spinning and his lungs aching for air, but it works- he is looser, less panicked about being torn in half.  

Newton flutters his eyelashes at Hermann, coy and loving, and Hermann’s face softens into a smile, a kiss on his nose.

Newton blushes pink, embarrassed but pleased by the casual display of affection, and returns the gesture by pulling Hermann down to kiss and nuzzle against his forehead.

Hermann’s hand travels down Newton’s body, stopping every so often to pinch at his soft parts, loving how Newton both squirms away in embarrassment and leans into it.

He brushes his fingers against the part of his dick that isn’t being used, fingers pinching and rolling between his thumb and forefinger. Newton shudders, batting away his hand, over sensitive.

Hermann smiles into Newton’s hair, and helps guide one of Big Daddy’s tentacles into Newton’s mouth. It’s obscene, how his cheeks bulge, how it tries to distend past his throat, causing him to drool and gag. Hermann almost wishes he had brought his phone so he could record this moment, immortalize it.

Newton looks up at him with begging eyes- whether pleading for release or more, he isn’t sure- it could be both.  

Hermann brings out a little bottle of lube from his inner vest pocket, because they had discussed this possibility, and he knows Newton well enough to know he _always_ gets what he wants, the spoiled, pampered brat he has become.

He slips in one finger as well as he can, using his cane hand for leverage and balance by pressing it against Newton’s back. It has the consequence of making him gag harder, pushing him further into the tentacles, but Newton has taken worse and never broke before.

Newton tries to shimmy backwards, but the finger inside him and the hand pressed against his spine prevents him from moving much, and it causes him to whine, long and loud so that Hermann can feel it in his hands.

Hermann decides after some movement that he is able to take more now, and so he inserts another finger, making sure to go slowly in counterpoint to the brutal pace of Big Daddy.

Hermann peeks over his shoulder, wishing to see Newton’s face as he is slowly scissored open. He is pleased to see the drool running down his open mouth, gathering at his jaw and dropping down onto his exposed collarbone and collar. His eyes have rolled back, far too intense pleasure coursing through him. In their drift, he can feel tells of it, causing Hermann to shiver and press his fingers in harder.

He adds another finger, listening to Newton’s grunts and whines for even a hint of pain or displeasure. He may be able to lie verbally, but their ghost drift makes it so that lying is near impossible between them.

Newton’s thighs shake as he tries to lever himself upward, searching for even a bit of friction of his own will. It’s hard, and slow going, and Hermann is afraid he’s going to fall and hurt himself, but he’s able to set his own pace against the insistent fingers and tentacles.

Hermann stills his hand, letting Newton fuck himself how he wishes.

Newton continues panting, and visibly strains himself to communicate a coherent thought.

 _Call me dirty_.

The thought drifts through like molasses, and Hermann can spot the wrinkle between Newton’s brows from the concentration of not passing out.

Hermann brings the hand from Newton’s back to press against the hollow of his throat, hinting at asphyxiation but teasing it regardless.

“Bist du eine Schlampe, Newton?”

Newton shudders, and squeezes his forearm in agreement.

_Oh Gott, ja, deutsch, ja Hermann, bitte._

_“_ Sag mir, was du bist - ein dreckiges Bengel. Sag mein Namen, Newton. Lass die Leute die sich hire wie Ratten verstecken dich hören.”

Hermann curled his fingers once more, watching Newton squeak and curl his toes. Pulling them out, he wiped them on Big Daddy’s stomach, and readied himself to enter Newton.

He counted down from three, holding himself at his base, because Newton’s whines and moans were starting to get to him, along with the wet slaps of skin against tentacle.

He enters Newton slowly, careful not to tear him and letting Newton rock at his own pace. He makes sure to hold his one free hand against Newton’s hip, squeezing it when Newton pulled down too sharply.

Behind him, he could feel Big Daddy’s third tentacle- the one that was propping up Newton- poke at his own entrance. Hermann shivered, spreading his legs as far as he could without being in danger of collapsing. It played against him, not really entering but teasing his hole.

Hermann huffed, and dug his nails into Newton in retaliation to the teasing. Newton lashed a leg out at him, which Hermann deftly caught by the ankle and squeezed until his fingerprints were stark against the pale skin.

Big Daddy wasn’t kind or gentle- not in the way Hermann and Newton were to each other- and when his lotus entered Hermann it was done roughly and in one fluid stroke that caused him to cry out, rocking away from him but only pushing further into Newton.

It was a cycle, like this, wanting to escape Big Daddy’s carelessness but only managing to bring his arousal higher as he squirmed away. He saw now- why Newton gave him control, liked to feel trapped and used without actually being so. It was a power rush, made him feel like his knees were going to collapse from underneath him, go to a space in his mind where he could be free again.

The Precursors struck at him, and he pushed them back, not wanting to miss a single moment with his Newton.

Hermann pressed his chest against Newton’s back, bringing both his hands to play with Newton’s nipples, mouthing at his neck and biting down hard enough to leave marks but not blood.

Newton’s whines were starting to grow in pitch, and Hermann could tell neither were going to last much longer. Indeed, he felt like any more stimulation and he would finish.

In his mind, he could hear what Newton wasn’t able to form physically, cries of  _Daddy,_  of _härter, rauher, bitte_ _faß_   _mich an Hermann, bitte, ich werde ein guter Junge sein._

Hermann could never deny Newton anything. He had given up his own mind to make sure Newton was alive and happy.

Newton’s skin was feverish, and Hermann could barely get a good grip, so he brought one hand to tilt Newton’s head back, popping it off the insistent tentacle, resting it against his shoulder so he could kiss him properly.

That was the last straw for Newton- the touch of someone who loved him- as the kiss was sloppy and wet and Hermann swallowed every cry, every plea and whine that escaped. His mouth burned from the Kaiju slime, but he didn’t care, he just wanted Newton to feel good.

Newton cried out underneath him, toes and back curling and hips bucking frantically. His nails dug into Hermann’s arms, and he fluttered his eyes open slowly to stare at him, dazed and spent.

That was the last straw for him, and with a quiet groan he buried his face into Newton, rocking back onto Big Daddy and into Newton as he chased his release.

At some point between coming and coming back to awareness, Big Daddy had also finished, as he could feel come sliding down his thighs, see it coating Newton’s face and hair thickly.

It sent a swoop in his stomach, and his cock twitched, but he was too spent for a while.

Newton fell to the concrete with a thud, all shaky limbs and gasping breaths. Hermann leaned on his cane, leg aching, and nudged at him with one foot to check he was still breathing. Newton curled around his leg, forehead bumping against his shin, seeking comfort that Hermann had to bite his tongue to stifle the groan of pain to give.

He made it to his knees shakily, hugging Newton to his body, pressing his sweaty forehead against his. They panted together, and from behind Newton Hermann watched as Big Daddy lumbered towards the mountain, watched as a missile shot from the atmosphere and collided down.

Down on the ground, Hermann squeezes Newton’s hand, grounding them both, and opened his mind fully for Newton to invade, receiving the same in return.

He shuts his eyes against the flare, and embraces Newton.


End file.
